


Somewhere in Brooklyn

by FearOrRegret



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:04:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16496678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearOrRegret/pseuds/FearOrRegret
Summary: A quick one shot I wrote inspired by the Bruno Mars song "Somewhere in Brooklyn".





	Somewhere in Brooklyn

Trains were outdated, at least that's what the rest of Blackwatch always insisted. Jesse knew better. Trains were the safest way to travel, always had been. It was easier to travel unnoticed that way, too, making it ideal for low profile Blackwatch work. He checked the time on his ticket for the umpteenth time, foot tapping restlessly as he waited for his train. For his first solo mission, things had gone well, but he wouldn't rest easy until he was back at home.

"I dig your shoes," came a rasped whisper beside him.

He turned. The girl sitting beside him smiled, holding her head phones just off of her ear. Her long, dark hair spilled in a bundle of thin braids over her shoulders. Bright red cateye glasses framed her face, and a gold ring hung from her nose. The dimple in her left cheek made his heart flutter. He returned her grin, tapping his boot heal idly.

"They seen better days," he told her.

"Same," she replied, holding up a foot to show him the faded red high top tennis shoes.

Jesse chuckled. He needed to return the compliment. In fact, he wanted to tell her she was beautiful--the most extraordinary thing he'd ever seen--but the words wouldn't come. Instead he settled on her gold trimmed leather biker jacket.

"I used to have one something like that," he added.

She giggled, hoarse but charming which made him smile. She left her headphones to hang around her neck and tucked her legs up into her seat, turning to better face him. From this new angle he saw she had gold rings in her eyebrows and a matching cuff decorating her right ear.

"Which train are you waiting for?" she asked.

"B-line," he answered honestly. "You?"

"A-line," she told him. "Back to school for the spring. It's my last semester, and then I'll have my psychology degree."

"Yeah," Jesse was impressed. "You into all that mental stuff?"

"I'm going to be a therapist," she offered proudly. "I want to help treat trauma patients." She paused, eyeing him carefully. "You're not in school though. I'd say, military? Or maybe police."

"Something like that." He chose to keep it vague. No point in blowing his cover this close to being home free.

"I'm good at reading people," she explained and added, "Would you rather I left you alone?"

"I don't mind a little company," he answered hastily.

The girl pulled her headphones off of her neck, suddenly excited. She asked, "Ever hear of Independence Verse?"

He hadn't. Her eyes lit up as she described her favorite musician, and insisted that he listen to just one song. She fitted her headphones over his ears. Her hands hovered beside his face while he listened, and he resisted the urge to take her hands in his. After the song ended they talked for another hour, swapping stories from their childhoods and laughing at each other's jokes. By the time the first train arrived at the station Jesse was certain he was in love. He only hoped that she felt the same.

"That's me," the girl said, almost disappointed that their conversation had to end. She stood and gathered her bags. "I really liked talking to you."

Jesse's heart fluttered again.

"Same," he answered, borrowing her words.

She waved and disappeared onto her train.

Back at the Watchpoint, Jesse couldn't wait to tell anyone--everyone--about his dream girl. How smart she was and beautiful and simply perfect. How she overwhelmed him. How he couldn't get her out of his head.

"I think she kind of liked me too," he added wistfully one evening.

"What was her name?" Ana asked, intrigued. "We could look her up."

Jesse froze as the shock set in. He'd never asked for her name, and she didn't know his. He wasn't even sure which school she said she was going to. He had met and lost his dream girl in a single day, and he had no way to find her. The next weekend he came back to the train station and sat in the same seat as before. After an hour of watching passengers arrive and depart he began to feel discouraged. He had hoped initially to catch a glimpse of the girl, but he realized now that the odds of her passing through again were slim.

Another hour passed. The sun was beginning to set casting a rosy light that failed to raise his spirits. The girl was gone, and he'd never see her again. She'd probably forgotten him anyways. Sighing, resigned, he stood and headed for the door. Outside he found where he'd parked his motorcycle on the curb.

Behind him Jesse heard a shout and rapid footsteps. He turned, and his heart swelled to see his dream girl sprinting after him. Her hair was tied back and bounced playfully as she ran. Her purse was sliding from her shoulder, and her glasses had slipped to the end of her nose. She caught up to him, panting but smiling.

"You probably don't remember me," she huffed in that coarse voice that made him weak. "We met here almost three weeks ago. I liked your boots? We talked for a while?"

Before she could say another word he pulled her into a tight hug. Her hair tickled his nose, and he could smell the soft vanilla scent of her shampoo.

"I thought about you every day," he murmured into her hair.  
She pulled away and straightened her glasses.

"I never asked your name," she admitted, embarrassed, and fished a newspaper clipping out of her bag. "I thought I'd never see you again, but then I saw this."

She smoothed out the single neat crease down the center of the article and showed it to him. The bold headline read "Overwatch Agents Resolve High Stakes Hostage Situation", and beside it a series of candid photos depicted various Overwatch members comforting victims. The girl pointed to the second picture which showed Jesse supporting a toddler on his hip. Both he and the child were captured mid-laugh as the kid's small hands reached to pull Jesse's hat from his head. Neither of them seemed aware of their photo being taken.

"That's you, yeah?" she asked also indicating the caption. "McCree?"

"Yeah." He was nearly breathless with excitement. "Call me Jesse."

She nodded and said, "Penelope."

"Can I call you Penny?" He couldn't look away from her sparkling gray eyes.

"As long as you promise to call me," she flirted.

"I really wanna kiss you, Penny." His hands hovered beside her face.

Penelope took one of his hands gently in hers and said, "Same."


End file.
